Spooning Leads to Forking (Hot in the Kitchen #2) - Kilby Blades Page 0,50

to grab the dish she’d made, and her bag. “You can live in my place above the bakery—then, let me live here and introduce me to your gentleman friend…”

“So where does Evie live again?” Shea couldn’t recall the name of the neighborhood Delilah had mentioned twice.

“It’s called “the narrows” because of where it is on the lake. It’s tucked away on purpose—on a little inlet that gives way to the main part. Pete loved his privacy. You’ll see what I mean right away.”

Not being able to find Evie’s house was the whole reason why Delilah had insisted on driving, saying that, even with GPS, Shea would never find the place. It was strange déjà vu, being driven for the first time in months. After a couple of fast turns and a road or two that Shea had never seen, she relented to the truth: much of the town still remained a mystery to her. It was exciting and humbling all at once. Some part of her wished she didn’t live up on that hill, breathtaking house or not. Before she could think too hard on this, Delilah turned off of an unmarked road and onto a gravel driveway that Shea could only assume meant that they’d just arrived.

The first thing Shea could say about the home of Evelyn Boudreaux was that it held a delectable smell. Before she’d made it in ten feet, Shea had a guess as to what dinner might be. The smells were so strong, she saw in her mind’s eye garlic and rosemary roasting on chicken, caramelized sugars bubbling on baking yams, fresh chives on a chopping board and mustard vinaigrette.

Shea could honestly say she hadn’t smelled anything so good since arriving in Sapling. She’d even been hard-pressed to smell such deliciousness in any kitchen in New York. It made her long for a home of her own—not merely a sanctuary for escaping her ghosts and demons—a place that held all of the people and smells and objects that she loved.

“Thank you so much for having me,” Shea said politely. Laying eyes on Evie’s face, it occurred to Shea that she’d seen the woman before. It could have been anywhere in town, from walking down the street to eating at The Big Spoon. Evie reminded Shea of her maternal grandmother.

She had short, graying blonde hair, diminutive stature, a pleasant roundness and a kindly way about her. Evie seemed warm in a way reserved for those who loved openly and deeply. But something told Shea that if she disliked you, she’d turn on you on a dime.

“I should be the one thanking you,” Evie said with twinkling blue eyes and a wide smile. “Delilah can’t stop going on about how much better she likes working at The Spoon since you came on.” Evie lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Folks in town can’t stop talking about how much better they like it, either.”

“Well, I grew up working in a restaurant, so it wasn’t that big of a stretch,” Shea explained. Speaking of which…I know you’re a master baker, so I brought you something from the stove.”

Shea was trying hard to fall into the category of being liked, a category her strategic cooking of southern food had been meant to cinch. Being invited to her first home dinner in Sapling would have felt like a big deal no matter who had done the inviting. It was an even bigger deal that “someone” was related to Dev.

Evie didn’t ask what was in the bag, so Shea held it out a little. When Evie hovered closer to give it a sniff, Shea liked her degrees more than she had even moments before. Evie’s eyes widened and the woman actually gasped. “Collard greens?”

Shea laughed, pleased that Evie seemed excited. “Good nose.”

“May I?” Evie gestured in a way that offered to relieve Shea of the bag. Shea nodded and handed it over.

“Tour of the house?” Delilah asked as Evie disappeared into what Shea guessed was the kitchen. Meandering beyond the foyer gave Shea her first real look around. Whatever calm had descended upon her dampened as she entered the first room. It was a stark reminder that policing was a family affair.

“This was Pete’s room.” Delilah smiled sadly as she walked steps ahead of Shea to lead her in. “It looked different when he was alive. Where his medals are used to be hunting trophies and pictures of fish.”

Shea walked inside, not wanting to disturb anything but forcing herself to look. There was something